


like you did before.

by Yui_Miyamoto



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-18
Updated: 2004-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28762596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yui_Miyamoto/pseuds/Yui_Miyamoto
Summary: What’s behind that awful, sadistic grin of Fuji Syusuke-san?
Relationships: Echizen Ryouma/Tezuka Kunimitsu, Fuji Shuusuke/Fuji Yuuta, Fuji Shuusuke/Tezuka Kunimitsu
Kudos: 1





	like you did before.

**Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis / Tennis no Oujisama isn’t mine.**  
  
In this system of delicate and stubborn intricacies, we’re lying to ourselves. There are two people that exist in this single body made of flesh and bone. And when you touch me by brushing against me so softly, a violent volcano erupts because I don’t know how to handle it.   
And so, I begin to smile at everything around us.  
  
There is nothing I can do.  
  
It’s like when I saw my little brother being picked on many years ago. I couldn’t stand it, but I had to endure it. I had to pretend that I was brave.  
  
It was something in me that I knew before anyone would know.  
  
As long as you looked like you’re the more dangerous one, then that false sense of respect would drip and seep into the earth and stir within the foundations of those around you. The air around you would be different and then the others around you would realize that there was nothing for them to fight against because their life and livelihood was being sucked away in a single breath.  
  
Yes, that was what was supposed to happen when you met me.  
  
But sometimes, when you hope too much, you start to blind yourself between idealism and self- delusion.  
  
 **like you did before.  
By miyamoto yui**  
  
“I can’t do this anymore, Tezuka. Stop.”  
  
I panted while standing there on my side of the court trying my best not to fall over. I wanted to shake and fall to the ground to admit defeat, but my pride wouldn’t let me.  
  
“Weren’t you the one that said that you wanted to train with me,” Tezuka said with his calm, yet firm voice puncturing my body with its serious quietness.  
  
I never thought that something like this would happen. I never thought that I was this weak. Maybe no one knew their own weakness until they were faced with someone who was one step further than they were.  
  
That grated on my nerves.   
  
And who was winning our psychological war anyway?  
  
I didn’t want to deal with such crap. I came here to study Tezuka and the way he played. I wanted to understand him, but the more I got to know him, or so I thought, the more I began to understand how far off my analysis was. The more I observed him and dissected his personality and actions into a series of “logical” steps and processes, the more I came to terms that there were many things I didn’t understand.  
  
When he threw the ball up to serve, he actually lifted his head to look into my eyes for a moment. That was a moment that shouldn’t have been there because he never did that before.  
  
“You never take me seriously,” I told him as my eyes opened to look at him and wait for a reaction.  
“Why would you say that?” he responded as he ran to his left to receive and return the ball to the opposite corner of my side of the court. He actually ran. He was actually exerting effort, purposefully I am sure, on my behalf.  
  
I stood there with my body hunched over and swinging a little from side to side. He was a bit distracted.  
Was it because I was imitating his “pillar”?  
  
“You liar,” I harshly said as I hit the ball with all my strength, resounding all my inner suffering. The ball against my racket sounded as if it were pain. In my small, deathlike whisper, a tinge of a reaction came out through those scrutinizing eyes. Even though he was as focused as ever, suddenly, like magic, Tezuka hit the ball back, just barely over the net.  
And the ball resisted coming towards me. It rolled towards his side as if it were protesting against the net before it, unable to accept that it couldn’t do anything about its predicament.  
  
It couldn’t go back to its owner.  
  
I looked at the ball and then I blinked to look up and see the Tezuka Kunimitsu I knew staring back at me with a perplexed expression. He didn’t look confused on the outside, but those eyes of his were burning into me as if they wanted to ask a question his lips dared not to ask me in their second of power and shame.  
  
Just to be a good sport, I came to the middle of the court, but my eyes never left his. He came over to me and shook my hand. Then, his expression became strange. It became calm, as if he were fighting himself from the inside. He whispered to me in an unwavering fashion which camouflaged its desperation, “You have no right to say that to me.”  
  
Then, his eyes diverted away from me as he took his hand away from me. I followed the direction of his glance as I found my brother standing outside of the fence of the tennis courts with his hand over the strap of his school bag, wanting to leave and stay at the same time.  
  
As if he were undecided on what he wanted to do with me.  
  
I closed my eyes and smiled at him while waving. He rolled his eyes at me and pouted while clearing his throat. He then avoided my gaze and glanced to one side.  
“I’ll be right there.”  
  
Glancing at Tezuka, who was wiping his face with his towel while sitting on a bench with his back towards Yuuta, I eyed him harshly. Then, I turned back to Yuuta and said, “So, you remembered to show up for our date. I’m so proud of you!”  
  
I laughed as his cheeks turned red while shouting the familiar protest of “Aniki!” to me.  
  
Tezuka continued to be unamused by my cunning cues. He got up and was dusting his shorts off when I took my bag up and walked over to him. I patted his shoulder as I said in a low voice, “This is your fault, Kunimitsu. I blame you for this.”  
  
I left him as the white cap attached to the head of that freshman, Echizen Ryouma, came onto the green court. They began to talk to one another. As I was walking with Yuuta, I glanced back at him one last time. And there he was looking as if he were relaxed.  
  
For Kami-sama’s sake, was he actually slightly smiling?  
  
Then, I closed my eyes again as I smiled at my brother, who had come to my side for no reason apparent to me.  
  
Why couldn’t he do that with me? Why was he always so stern and harsh when it came to me even though it appeared to everyone as if he succumbed in some way to me in fear, respect, or favor?  
  
“You usually don’t come for me. What made you come today?” I asked my brother as we walked down the street.  
“Because I felt it.” He didn’t look at me and nor did he tease me.  
I was touched by the endearing remark.  
  
I stopped and held onto the top of Yuuta’s head. He glanced towards me as he stopped walking. “Yes?”  
Grinning, I shook my head and let him go.  
  
You’re the only one who loves me, don’t you, Yuuta? Like this, without knowing, you’re sticking up for me. Trying to save me in this awkward way of yours.  
  
As clumsy as my affections for him,  
  
  
To that person behind those critical eyes and the investigating lens of those glasses of his…  
You made me this way, Tezuka.  
  
I used to know the exact difference between deceiving others and keeping myself intact, but having met you, I found that we were the same. We cling onto what we think are ourselves and we stand in the impressions of what others think we are.  
  
All the while, we’re deceiving ourselves. We’re lying to ourselves and we’re so aware of it. We know the other knows.  
  
And the only honest thing is this feeling we share but can’t ever admit to the other.  
  
We’re so alike, we almost hate ourselves for it. So, we try to push our selves away from one another.  
  
I know everyone changes when they’re around different people. They bring out the characteristics we don’t realize until we spend time with those particular people. But why…  
  
…why is it that Echizen easily squeezed into all the crevices I was unable to unlock inside of you?  
  
Your smile is what I love the most about you, but you rarely show it. And it’s even rarer to see it being done so sincerely upon your face that you don’t even realize you’re as honest as a child with all your silent enthusiasm.  
  
Why is it the thing I most want to see, experience, and keep to myself isn’t meant for me? What did I do wrong?  
  
I glanced at my brother. Then, I remembered Tezuka’s words when he told me once, “You won’t let me see beyond that mask, Syusuke. But someone else has.”  
  
What is going on here? Why are we playing this game between us and with ourselves?  
  
  
“You always go for the harder things in life, don’t you, Syusuke?” my sister said to me when she dropped me off on the day I was applying to join the Seigaku Tennis Club.  
  
I didn’t do anything wrong in loving these people. I didn’t do anything wrong. And I can’t accept defeat.  
  
I didn’t realize it, and I didn’t know how it happened, but across the street, there was Tezuka and Ryouma each carrying their bags on their shoulders and walking side by side.  
  
The light before us turned red and we stopped walking.  
  
At that moment, the cars passed between us but we didn’t know that. We were looking directly at one another.  
  
This is your fault, Kunimitsu. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be feeling this way. I wouldn’t have to re-evaluate all that I thought I was.   
I wouldn’t have to smile in two distinct ways…  
  
…so aware of how inadequate I am…  
…how I am growing into two different people in response to my affections for you and Yuuta…  
  
..and how I can’t decide who should live and who should die.  
  
And above all that, how can I fight against Echizen when I’m so torn inside? When I’m so unconfident when it comes to you, Kunimitsu?  
  
I want you to help me. I’ve always wanted to reach out to you with everything I have.  
  
But I couldn’t let myself. I’m as prideful as a man-eating mermaid.  
  
And even though I can see you, even though I touch you with my fingers to tease you and make sure to myself that you’re real, you’re not here with me.  
  
You’re not anywhere, Kunimitsu. I don’t think you even realize that.  
  
I didn’t know I was also falling into this darkness within myself.   
  
I’m always trying my best to find you. And to find myself too. But you’re not here with me. I can’t ever find you.  
  
Where is that smile that I love so much? Where is he hiding? Why must I carry the burden of making it up for myself?  
  
In the next few seconds, I look up to the clear afternoon sky. My tennis jacket’s sticking to me and there are tears in my eyes.  
  
That’s why you succumb to it. That’s why I fear of what it’ll do to me.  
  
Pulling back the tears, I blink and look down to cross the street with that familiar grin that kills me and makes me lie and everything and everyone else around me each time I wear it on my face.  
  
I have to smile for myself because you won’t smile for me,  
  
like you did before.  
  
Brushing shoulder to shoulder, I gulped with that horrid grin shining brightly as ever with my eyes a bit open. When he glanced at me, my eyes told him, “Where did we go wrong? Where and when did I lose you?”  
  
Then, I closed my eyes to watch my brother and the blurry road in front of me.  
  
 **Owari. / The End.  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Short and sweet, wasn’t it? * cackles * Well, I wanted to add an extra spice (or two) to the scene. It’s fast-paced, but I wanted something very concise, but snappy. I don’t know, but I wanted a story that had lots of tension and wasn’t so clean or tender as I’m accustomed to making.


End file.
